magical, the rollercoaster,
a calamity of
white
wood peeling of paint.
the scratch
and clang of metal cars
on ancient
chain linked
tracks.
it was frightening,
boarding
the cramped
boxed car,
the rail pulled down
by a tattooed gnome
for you to hold
on to
as you slowly climbed
the first hill,
leaving behind
the carnival
world
below.
how we screamed,
as the car
blistered along,
suspended in the air,
floating,
seemingly half off
the path.
then the next hill, the next.
around the curves,
surprised that we were
still alive,
and finally to the last
stretch,
where it slowed to
rest.
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